LOGINAnika Sterling was the perfect wife, the perfect employee, and the perfect scapegoat. Betrayed by her husband, discarded by her step-sister, and left to drown in the dark waters of the river, Anika’s life was supposed to end. But destiny, and the most dangerous man in the city, had other plans. Everyone knows the legend of Icelyn Alabaster Sterling: cold, untouchable, and utterly heartless. He is the man who oversees an empire, the man who terrifies his own nephew, and the man Anika Sterling once feared from across a crowded room. Saved by him, Anika is given a choice: vanish forever, or burn her past to the ground. She chooses war. By marrying the man who holds the Sterling empire’s strings, she transforms from the discarded wife into the formidable "Aunt" who commands respect. But as Anika builds her legacy, she uncovers a secret: the terrifying realization that her savior’s love wasn't a rescue... It was a hunt, and what's more terrifying, she wanted him to.
View MoreAnikaI didn’t remember how I got past the gates.One moment I was standing there, soaked to the bone, their laughter still ringing in my ears. The next, I was outside, the heavy doors shut behind me like I had never belonged there.The rain hadn’t stopped.It fell harder now, soaking through my dress, clinging to my skin, making every step heavier than the last. My hair stuck to my face, my fingers numb, my body trembling, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from everything that had just happened.I walked.I didn’t know where I was going. I just kept moving, one step after another, like stopping would make everything real in a way I wasn’t ready to face.My chest hurts. I have absolutely no idea how to survive. I had nothing. Nothing at all. Except for the little life growing inside of me.I let out a shaky breath, my hand moving instinctively to my stomach.“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know any of this would
Anika The icy rain was no longer just a weather condition; it felt like a thousand needles sewing me into my own coffin as I stood there, paralyzed, watching them. The sound of their laughter, so warm and intimate, sliced through the rhythmic drumming of the storm until my own heartbeat sounded like a death knell in my ears. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, not until Merrick’s head turned and his dark eyes found mine.The laughter didn't stop—it just transformed into something pretentious. He tapped Karla’s shoulder, and they both stood up with a synchronized grace that told me they had practiced this dance for years while I was away, working myself to the bone."Anika?" My sister’s voice was like honey laced with arsenic, that innocent, wide-eyed look she always used to get her way perfectly in place. "You're here? Goodness, how long have you been standing there getting drenched? I got better so quickly, and the doctors said I should rest at home. I hope you don't mind, your husb
AnikaMy head felt as though it were being crushed in a vice, the weight of a long, dark sleep pinning me to the mattress. I blinked against the harsh fluorescent hum of the hospital room, my hand instinctively going to my abdomen where a dull, persistent ache throbbed.I turned my head. The chair where Merrick had sat was empty. The bed where Karla had been coughing and gasping was gone.The silence was terrifying.The door pushed open. A woman in a white coat walked in, flipping through a clipboard. She wasn't the doctor from before."You're awake," she said, her voice clinical.I struggled to sit up, my voice coming out in a dry rasp. "My sister... Karla. Is she okay? Everyone was here, she was unconscious, and then I—""Sister?" The doctor looked up, her brow furrowing as she scanned the room. "You were the only one in this ward when I came on shift, Ma’am.""Oh. My sister was the one I donated to."Maybe they had transferred her to another ward. The doctor checked her notes, th
Anika, 25By the time I stepped out of the airport, my entire body ached.The long hours in a cramped seat had left my neck stiff and my shoulders sore, and dragging my luggage behind me only made it worse. I paused for a moment just outside the terminal, adjusting my grip and scanning the area out of habit.I leaned against my suitcase, closing my eyes for a second. I had spent two weeks in New Orleans, cleaning up the mess Merrick’s local directors had made. I was the one who balanced the ledgers; I was the one who settled the strikes. Without me, the company was a house of cards waiting for a breeze.But I wasn't even worth a seat on my own husband’s private jet."The jet was needed to fetch Miss Karla’s favorite chef from Italy, Ma’am," Merrick’s secretary had told me over the phone with a voice like cold stone. "Mr. Sterling says you can find your own way back. It’s just a flight, after all."A flight. In a cramped seat, while I was already running on fumes.I pulled out my phon












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